Jules Crommelin

Stories

By Jules Crommelin

I was always interested in big questions about philosophy and the mind.

My dear friend Gabe studied neuroscience, and I asked him where to start if I wanted to learn more. He recommended Sam Harris's book Waking Up, and it was mind-opening for me.

As a musician and a writer of music, there's something interestingly analogous between writing and meditation. When I get into a period where I'm writing every day, there's this feeling of going further and further into the subconscious mind. I'm often surprised by this knowledge that is coming from within me and arising out of me.

It feels almost the same as meditating. One thing leads to another, and you're on this journey, and there's this meaning that's coming out of it that is often surprising. It doesn't make much sense in the moment, but when I look back and see what has unfolded, I'm able to see that it's meaningful to me.

I listened to The Cloud of Unknowing from Tom Lutz really quickly because I just loved the concept.

It really spoke to me. Songwriting is, for me, about having a positive sense toward the unknown. It's often hard, and you're grappling against it, but in the good times there's this feeling of wonder and awe at the fact that you don't know what's coming next.

It wasn't until much later after listening to The Cloud of Unknowing that I wrote "Safeandsound," which is probably a testament to how inspiring it was for me. It was really deep in my subconscious.

I didn't make the connection between the song and its lyrics and meditation until much later, I think because it had been ages since I'd listened to the series. I wasn't thinking about it, but I was deeply inspired by this idea of the unknown. That word comes up a lot for me. Looking back, and looking at the lyrics, it makes a lot of sense.

I'm often trying to write something a little more subconscious.

There's not a clear message in the song, and I'm not intending for there to be. It's often a bit mysterious, and therefore you keep finding new meanings out of it as time goes by. It's a weird experience for this tangible thing you recorded once to keep changing over time. There's something cool and mysterious about that.

I've experienced a lot of anxiety in my life, and it's directly linked to a feeling of fear toward the unknown. Listening to The Cloud of Unknowing felt like an antidote that allowed me to look at the unknown in a more inquisitive way. It allowed me to be less scared of it and adopt a more curious point of view. It's really helped me in just reframing the idea of the unknown.

Things are unfolding and there's no way of knowing what's going to happen. The song is directly linked to this idea of curious positivity when searching in the unknown and the constant unfolding that is happening.

The song comes from a sense of security in my environment and surroundings.

It's also tied to a deep sense of anxiety around wanting to be myself and wanting to share more and feel more comfortable in myself. It asks the question: Is it safe and sound for me to do that?

It's often a frame of mind. The feeling of being safe in the unknown depends on my state of mind. If I'm in an anxious place, I don't feel safe with the feeling of unknowing, and things happening, and my environment, and I need to come to ground, realize once again that I am okay, and that the things that are happening are not dangerous.

The anxiety makes you feel like everything is a danger. The recognition has to keep coming back: I am okay. The strength of meditation is that when you feel that anxiety or un-safety of the unknown, the alarm bell goes off and you recognize a need to pull back. So in the end, meditation is the key. The more I can do it, the more safe I feel.

Jules Crommelin